


Sugar Shack 2.0

by jettacubed (Isteskunst)



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:46:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isteskunst/pseuds/jettacubed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the break-up, Blaine is heartbroken. Sugar decides that the solution to his sadness is to force him to spend an evening at Sugar Shack 2.0, her make-shift strip club, and then post pictures of it online. This has mixed results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sugar Shack 2.0

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before "The New Rachel" aired so my characterizations of the new characters are all wrong. Also, I somehow forgot that Puck graduated last season. So this is an AU in which he's repeating his senior year? Oooops.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” Blaine said, cringing away from the scantily-clad crotch in his face.

“Um, I totally did – as an awesome friend, it’s my duty to keep you from depressing everyone with your sad singleness.” Sugar, five sheets to the wind and adorned with a huge bow headband, leaned into Blaine’s bubble to shove a wad of cash down the dancer’s thong.

“No, really, Sugar,” Blaine said, hands raised defensively as the dancer turned around to shake his – admittedly lovely – ass in Blaine’s face. “You really, really, really didn’t have to do this.”

“You are such a party pooper, Blaine – now shut up and enjoy! Whooo!” Sugar threw her arms up and cheered.

Brittany cheered back at her from where she and another stripper were teaching each other dance moves. Blaine closed his eyes and wondered what atrocity he’d committed in a previous life to possibly deserve friends like these.

He supposed he should have seen something like this coming – after all, he had been moping around the school since he’d gotten back from New York the previous week and hell would freeze over before New Directions let a chance to meddle in one of their member’s emotional tumult slip through their collective fingers.

But even if he’d expected some sort of we-know-the-love-of-your-life-just-broke-up-with-you-but-please-stop-moping-you’re-harshing-our-happy-go-lucky-buzz-intervention, he never in a million years would have expected Sugar “my dad is totally not in the mob” Motta to rent Breadstix and turn it into a makeshift strip club for his supposed benefit.

Blaine didn’t even think that was legal, especially since most of the “patrons” of this so-called Sugar Shack 2.0 were underage.

But, as usual, Blaine seemed to be the only one who thought it was strange. Everyone else seemed to think it was a grand idea.

Sugar had attached herself to his side as soon as he’d arrived, and was dutifully keeping him supplied with lap dances – though the way she enthusiastically wolf-whistled and papered the dancers with bills suggested the gesture was more for her than for Blaine.

Brittany and Sam had immediately bonded with the dancers and were having some sort of weird dance-off slash workshop at the front of the restaurant. Both had lost their shirts almost as soon as they had entered the restaurant.

Puck, Tina, and Artie were doing body shots at the table next to Blaine’s. Blaine had felt a glimmer of hope when he realized that Sugar had only hired male dancers, sure that the presence of near-naked man-meat would deter the straight male half of New Directions from attending and witnessing his embarrassment, but no. No, that would have been a much too normal reaction for Blaine to expect. 

Puck, when Sugar had shared her intention to “fill the place with as much cute boy ass as possible,” had only shrugged and said, “I’m there – hey, a thong’s a thong, dude, no matter what’s underneath it.”

Artie, well aware that the presence of both alcohol and strippers would inevitably lead to a topless Brittany as well as general debauchery, had expressed similar enthusiasm.

Tina, although she was newly single as well, was no help in this particular predicament. Whereas Blaine had taken the my-boyfriend’s-gone-oh-god-I’m-going-to-die-alone route, Tina had embraced her newfound singledom with surprising determination. Blaine had initially hoped to convince her to help him escape, but watching her lick salt off a stripper’s ass three times in a row had kind of killed that idea.

And Blaine didn’t even know why the new kids were even there. He didn’t have anything against them – except Kitty, he fucking hated that bitch for talking to Kurt like she had – but he didn’t particularly want to strip club it up with them either.

Jake, the only guy – besides Blaine – who seemed a little wigged out by all the male strippers, was glaring at the thonged man gyrating on the lap of a giggling Marley while simultaneously keeping an eye on Puck. Blaine had gotten the impression that Jake had only come along because Puck had, and that he would happily leave if Puck gave any indication that he leaving as well. Blaine’s experience with big brothers and strip clubs seemed to be quite different from Jake’s – whereas Jake seemed to take the whole thing as a chance to prove he was as secure in his straight manliness as Puck was, Blaine had literally hidden under his bed to escape Cooper’s idea that a sixteenth birthday should be celebrated with glitter and nakedness.

Blaine had lost track of Unique and Kitty pretty quickly, but the last time he’d seen them they seemed to have formed a shaky truce based on a mutual love for flavored vodka and garish make-up.

With no one who shared his perspective that forcing him to endure strippers to get over Kurt was a stupid and horrible idea, Blaine had been forced to partake. The only thing he was glad of was that Mr. Schuester hadn’t been invited. Although his presence would have certainly taken his mind off Kurt, it also would have scarred Blaine for life.

“Blaaaaaine,” Tina slurred, throwing her arms around his neck from behind. “Isn’t this fun, Blaine? Being single,” she stopped to stroke down the chest of Blaine’s lap dancer, “is so awesome.” 

“Yeah,” Blaine muttered. “So awesome.”

“Blaine’s a party pooper, Tina,” Sugar said, shaking her finger at him. “I think he needs more bo-oys!”

She and Tina both cheered. Blaine groaned.

“Over here!” Sugar commanded, snapping at a stripper. Blaine was uncomfortably reminded of Kurt and cheesecakes and, would Kurt snap at strippers, too? Blaine didn’t want to think about Kurt snapping at strippers. “Double up on him! Double up on him!” Sugar pointed at Blaine.

He blushed, aware of the entendre in her words even though he doubted she was. The second stripper joined the first in his lap and winked as the two began to do what Blaine could only describe as synchronized thrusting. Tina shoved another drink in his hand and he drank it in one go.

And oh, goody, now Kitty was here again, in that ridiculous cheerleading uniform. She looked down her nose at him – though he thought it was a bit much for her to condescend to him when she was wearing false eyelashes and about a pound of glitter eye shadow – and sneered. “Why does he look constipated? I thought gays liked dick.”

“Shut up, Kitty,” Tina slurred, waving a hand at the blonde dismissively. Sugar rolled her eyes and made a gagging gesture at Blaine.

“I’m not trying to be a bitch or anything,” Kitty said, obviously trying to be a bitch, “but shouldn’t he be happier right now? I mean, these guys are a lot hotter than that little boy who dumped him.” She looked at him with fake sympathy. “You should think of this as an opportunity to upgrade, sweetie.”

“Don’t you even talk about him!” Blaine snapped. He struggled to his feet, pushing the thrusting men aside. It was a little more difficult than he expected, given that he was a whole lot drunker than he thought he was. “Kurt’s gonna be a star! He’s the most amazing man in the whole world!” Blaine felt himself tearing up. “And you’re just some stupid Barbie doll with plastic for brains!”

Kitty rolled her eyes, but Blaine didn’t wait to see what insult she’d dish out next. He’d had enough of this. He crawled over Sugar’s lap – causing her to yelp as she spilled something pink on her already pink dress – and made his way out from where he’d been trapped at the table. He made his way shakily toward the door.

“Hey, Blaine!” Brittany said, throwing her arms around his neck. Her breasts, sweaty from dancing and covered only by a see-through red bra, pressed against his shoulder. He tried to shove her away but couldn’t quite manage it. “Come dance with us!”

Sam suddenly appeared at his other side, abs glistening and covered in body glitter. Blaine had a hard time looking away from them.

“Yeah, dude,” Sam said, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s waist so that he was stuck in the middle of a sweaty dancer sandwich. “Let loose!” He started doing body rolls.

“Ahh,” Blaine said, alarmed. “I just wanna go home.”

And then there was Tina again, holding out another drink. Blaine slammed it back. He doesn’t remember the rest of the night. 

***

The next morning, Blaine wakes up fully-clothed in his bathtub with a raging headache and what seems to be crusty spit all over his chin. He lifts himself slowly out of the tub, only to sink back into it in exhaustion. He goes back to sleep.

***

Two hours later, Blaine is showered and dressed but the headache hasn’t gone away. It gets worse when he sluggishly opens his laptop to check his email.

_Sugar Motta has tagged you in 53 pictures_ , a new email said.

His heart dropped. He hadn’t noticed Sugar taking pictures. Had he really been that out of it? And would she really post pictures of him at a _strip club_ on facebook?

Apparently, she would. He clicks with horror through her album “Sugar Shack 2.0 –  Hot Boy Edition ;*.”

Sugar, apparently, was one of those people who post every photo they take, no matter how bad or how many pictures they’ve taken of the exact same thing. And that meant that Blaine now had 53 pictures of himself online in various stages of dress and drunkenness, with various half-naked people draped all over him. 

He hears the thumping beat of “Don’t You Want Me” and registers that his phone is ringing. Rachel. He picks it up.

“Hello?” 

“Blaine Anderson, what do you think you’re doing?” Rachel’s shrill voice, overly loud even when he wasn’t hung over, blasted into his ear.

“Wha –”

“If you were trying to hurt him, congratulations, you succeeded. He’s been crying all week, for your information. Though, judging by these pictures, apparently you don’t even care. Body shots off a stripper’s bottom, Blaine, really? Do you know how tacky – not to mention unhygienic – that is?”

“Off a what?” Blaine said, mouth dropping open. He hadn’t gotten to those yet.

“You heard me, Blaine Anderson, _off a stripper’s bottom_. I can’t believe you would do something like this. Do you know how hurt he was when he saw those pictures, Blaine? Very, very hurt. Especially the ones of you with your tongue down Sam’s throat, what were you thinking?”

“Down what?” Blaine said, frantically clicking through the album. He hadn’t gotten to those yet either.

“ _Down Sam’s throat_. I know from our short-lived yet passionate romantic history that you’re an affectionate drunk, but this is really too far, don’t you think?”

“Rachel, I didn’t mean –”

“Save it, Blaine. There’s really nothing you can say right now that would make this any better." 

He tried again, but she had already hung up on him.

He was only halfway through Sugar’s album but he doesn’t want to see anymore. He closed his laptop and, collapsing on his bed, went back to sleep.

***

When his alarm goes off the next morning, Blaine groans. It’s Monday and he feels like crap. He has to go back to school and face the people who not only forced him to endure strippers but also posted evidence of it online. As well as people on whom he apparently macked. A cursory check through Sugar’s album while he got dressed informed him that Sam was not the only victim of his tongue that night – he was also going to have to be awkward around Sugar and Puck, of all people, as well.

His parents were gone for the week, leaving him to mope around the kitchen in peace. Everything was in pieces. Kurt had broken up with him. The people he thought were his friends were actually not concerned with his feelings or his happiness at all. He’d hurt the person he loved the most and he couldn’t even remember doing it.

Glumly, he grabbed his satchel and his thermos of coffee and opened the front door.

There was a man on his front porch, facing away from him, and Blaine would be fooling himself if he denied that he knew exactly who that man was before he could even register any characteristics. Kurt spun around to face him, apparently startled by the noise.

They stared at each other.

Kurt’s eyes were red and puffy and his hair looked like he’d coated it with hairspray and then squished it under a helmet for several hours and he was the most beautiful person Blaine had ever seen.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, reaching out for him. “I’m so –” 

But Kurt didn’t let him finish. He rushed forward, grabbing Blaine’s face and pulling him into a kiss. He kept moving forward until Blaine was pressed against the wall a few feet into the foyer, kissing him the whole time.

It was a harsher kiss than Blaine was used to, more teeth than lip, more tongue than teeth, and the way Kurt was tilting his head up and forcing his jaw open hurt. It was wonderful.

After a few moments of shocked stillness, Blaine surged up to return the kiss, opening his jaw even wider, and wrapping his arms around Kurt’s neck. Groaning, Kurt pressed even closer against him, their bodies flush together, and the contact ignited a hot arousal in the pit of Blaine’s stomach. Kurt pressed forward again, this time forcing his leg between Blaine’s and pressing up.

Moaning at the pressure, Blaine tilted his head back, letting Kurt take advantage of his exposed neck. Kurt eagerly began to suck just beneath his jaw. Blaine moaned again.

Kurt pressed up between his legs and Blaine keened, tightening his hold around Kurt’s neck. He had forgotten, however, that he was still holding his coffee thermos. His hold on it had finally slackened enough that it dropped from his grasp and landed with a metallic thunk on the tile of Blaine’s foyer, missing Kurt’s foot by an inch.

Kurt jumped at the sound, pulling back from Blaine with a startled yelp.

“Sorry,” Blaine said, hurriedly grabbing the thermos before it could roll away. Straightening, he looked up and was transfixed by Kurt, standing a foot away, chest heaving, hair mussed, lips red and swollen. Blaine set the thermos on the hall table and reached out for Kurt again, but apparently the moment had been broken.

“No, wait,” Kurt said, shifting out of Blaine’s reach. His eyes dipped down to focus on what Blaine was sure were his equally red and swollen lips, before being pulled away with what looked like considerable effort. “We have to talk.”

“About what?” Blaine asked, mind still preoccupied with the movement of Kurt’s chest against his vest as he breathed, how the fabric tightened with every inhale.

Kurt bit his lip and looked away. Blaine’s mind found a new preoccupation in studying Kurt’s lips and remembering what he could do with them.

“I made a mistake, Blaine,” Kurt said, turning to look him in the eye. Kurt’s normally light eyes were now dark and Blaine felt his heart speed up.

“A mistake?” Blaine parroted uselessly. It was impossible for him to concentrate on words when every movement of Kurt’s body was like ballet, when every movement was worthy of Blaine’s entire attention span.

“A mistake,” Kurt continued, stepping closer but still refusing to let Blaine reach out for him. “I thought it would be for the best for us to break up. I thought I could handle watching you move on, watching you live your life without me, but I don’t think I can, Blaine.”

“Do you mean –” All of Blaine’s attention was now fixed on what Kurt was saying. The arousal in his stomach had been replaced by a furtive hope that was slowly spreading through his body.

“I mean that I don’t want there to be naked men all over you, Blaine.” Kurt stepped forward again and grasped Blaine’s hip. “I don’t want other people to touch you, kiss you. I want you to be mine, Blaine.”

Blaine raised his arms to wrap around Kurt’s neck and this time Kurt let him.

Kurt looked down, and when he looked up again he looked uncertain for the first time since Blaine had opened the door. “Would you be mine again, Blaine?”

Blaine leaned up and kissed him, sweetly, like a second first kiss. Kurt whined in the back of his throat and Blaine flipped them so that Kurt was pressed tightly between the wall and Blaine’s body. He pulled away slightly to whisper against Kurt’s mouth, “I was never not yours.”

Kurt whined again and it’s too much for Blaine. He had been without this, without Kurt, for too long – he had spent too long thinking that he would never have this again. He kissed his way down the column of Kurt’s throat, sucking on his clavicle, palming his chest muscles through his shirt. He needed to know that this was real, that he was allowed this – Kurt – again, that everything would be okay.

He dropped to his knees and opened Kurt’s belt, the one he had learned to open one-handed months ago. Kurt moaned.

Sliding his zipper down with one hand and pushing Kurt’s hip against the wall with the other, Blaine nuzzled into Kurt’s soft underwear and the hardness he could feel underneath. It had been too long since he’d smelled this. 

Pulling Kurt’s jeans down his hips, Blaine mouthed along the line of his cock under the fabric. Above him Kurt gasped and moaned, and Blaine spared a moment to look up at him, beautifully flushed and awed, through his eyelashes.

He pulled the underwear down and Kurt barely had time to gasp as the cool air hit his hot flesh before Blaine had licked nearly all of him into his mouth. The gasp turned to a choking sound and Blaine could feel Kurt’s hands tangle in his hair, grasping so hard it hurt his scalp. He loved the sensation, moving his head back and forth as he moved Kurt’s cock in and out of his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around its tip. It had always been easy for him to tell what Kurt liked when he was getting head – not only was Kurt extremely vocal with his moans and gasps, but the more he liked something, the harder he pulled at Blaine’s curls. Every time Blaine swirled around the tip of his cock, tightening his lips around it before taking more of it into his mouth, the pain in his scalp became almost unbearable.

Blaine pulled off – ignoring Kurt’s gasped protests – to mouth along the sides of his cock, licking and sucking at the pronounced vein that ran the length of it. “Uhh,” Kurt said, turning his head into the wall, his eyes closed tight, “Blaine, god, don’t stop.”

Looking up at him, Blaine lightly scraped his teeth along the top of his cock. Kurt made a sharp yelp, looking down at him in surprise.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Blaine said, voice deeper than normal. “Look at me.”

“Ohh,” Kurt moaned, eyes wide, pupils blown, staring down at Blaine as he once again slid his mouth around Kurt’s cock. The angle hurt his head, but Blaine was determined to maintain eye contact. He couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing Kurt’s eyes.

As Blaine slid along the length, he swallowed, taking it in further than he had before. He couldn’t keep eye contact as he took all of Kurt inside his throat, but as he pulled off he made sure to meet his gaze, Kurt’s eyes still wide and helplessly blown. Kurt was making incomprehensible sounds, gasping out syllables that could’ve been words with Blaine’s name interspersed. Blaine swallowed over him again and he was sure Kurt must’ve pulled some of his hair out with the intensity that he pulled on Blaine’s curls.

“Oh, god, Blaine, so good,” he murmured as Blaine pulled off to swirl his tongue around the tip. He started to shut his eyes but Blaine used the hand he was using to press Kurt against the wall to pinch his hip. Kurt’s eyes flew open and locked again on Blaine’s.

As Blaine slid his mouth over Kurt’s cock again, this time not swallowing but using one hand to wrap around the part left uncovered by his mouth, he stopped pressing Kurt against the wall and used that hand to reach between Kurt’s legs, massaging Kurt’s testicles and then moving farther back to graze over his hole.

“Oh,” Kurt said, head snapping back to thunk against the wall. Blaine pinched him again and Kurt looked down again, eyes fixing on Blaine before going unseeing, his hips jolting as he came in Blaine’s mouth. Blaine kept mouthing along the length as he came, maintaining suction and stroking lightly with both hands until Kurt was spent.

Swallowing the last of the come, Blaine pulled off in time to help Kurt slide bonelessly down the wall. Kurt settled on spread knees, dropping his head to Blaine’s shoulder as he panted and came back to himself. Blaine kissed along his neck, loving the combination of come, sweat, and cologne on his tongue.

Once Kurt stopped breathing so heavily, he raised his head and pulled Blaine in for a kiss. With one hand he deftly opened Blaine’s pants and shoved his hand down the front of his underwear. Blaine groaned into Kurt’s mouth. He was so hard from going down on Kurt that any bit of attention would push him over the edge.

Kurt pulled away from the kiss as he grasped Blaine’s cock and stroked it tightly, leaning his forehead against Blaine’s, staring into his eyes.

Kurt continued to stroke, but it was his eyes that finally did it. Blaine moaned at a particularly hard stroke and Kurt’s eyes darkened, eyelids fluttering, and Blaine was gone. He opened his mouth in a silent yell and dropped his head forward onto Kurt’s shoulder.

When he came back to himself, Kurt had fallen back against the wall and taken Blaine with him. They both sat, pants undone and Blaine half in Kurt’s lap, both staring out the door they suddenly realized they had never closed.

“So yeah,” Kurt said, voice gruff. He cleared his throat and wrapped his arms tightly around Blaine. “That’ll teach you for making out with my friends.”

Blaine laughed and nuzzled into Kurt’s chest. “If that’s the lesson I get, maybe I should make out with your friends more often,” he murmured with a smile.

Kurt tightened his grip and ducked down to bite Blaine’s ear, causing him to jump with a startled yelp. “Don’t you dare, Blaine Anderson,” he murmured, pulling him closer to kiss over the ear in apology. “Don’t you dare.”

***

When Blaine finally got to school that day, it was lunch time. He had a medium drip in one hand, the taste of a grande nonfat mocha on his tongue, and a hot chocolate with extra whip in the other. He located his friends and slid onto the bench between Sam and Marley, not noticing when Sam blushed and looked away, raising a hand to press against the side of his turtleneck-covered neck.

Blaine presented the hot chocolate to Sugar with a flourish. He smiled at her squeal of joy and, when she asked him what the occasion was, he simply said that Sugar Shack 2.0 was the best idea she’d ever had.

“It was great, wasn’t it?” she said, beaming. “I’m pretty much the awesomest friend ever.”

For once, Blaine agreed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I've written anything explicit, so apologies for any awkwardness in my porn. Feedback is appreciated!


End file.
